Swagger
by Chuck Poon
Summary: Two childhood friends are torn apart in the midst of a mafia uprising. The years pass as one grows to fight for justice, and the other grows to fight for his family. When Tyr and Angel reunite, can their bond survive? Or will they slaughter one another in the name of what they fight for? Dons and Donnas rule the world now, only opposed by a family that calls themselves the Indigos.
1. Chapter 1

**The Rise of the Mafia**

_**Somewhere between Pewter City and Mt. Moon**_

Tension was a difficult thing for a young child to understand, especially when the adults acted so secretive, so anxious, and so upset all at once. It was far from anything that the pint sized little boy with short red hair, Tyr McLeod, could ever fathom, the reason his parents crowded around the radio so nervously. His pleas to play outside with Angelo, his best friend, were denied and met with a certain level of reproach and scathe he couldn't comprehend. Why did they silence him, or growl the way they did whenever he had interrupted their broadcast? It just failed to click for him.

After several power struggles over the course of thirty minutes, Tyr had conceded defeat, taking up a seat by his smaller friend—both cradling their pokemon eggs that would soon hatch into an Eevee. The eggs were a gift to Tyr and Angelo from Tyr's father, who got them from a man named Bill Sonezaki. His Dad, from what Tyr understood, worked with Mr. Sonezaki in Cerulean City and fought bad guys with a few other tough trainers. Angelo's parents pretended to be the bad guys, but they haven't come back yet. Tyr's mother had tears in her eyes every time he or Angelo asked about them, but nobody would tell them anything about it. Tyr could also tell that it made Angelo sad, even though he didn't like to show it.

The freckle faced Tyr furrowed his brow, channelling a certain level of hatred towards the radio that made his parents tell him to be quiet and also made them say no to everything he tried to ask them. He wished it would just blow up, or something. Angelo, who could already read and write, sulked as he tuned in with Tyr's parents, almost like he knew what was happening. Tyr had just turned five a month ago, and Angelo was still four months from his sixth birthday, it had to be why he was smarter, it just had to be. Tyr watched his friend intently, noticing the sadness in his brown eyes. Angelo definitely knew more than he did and it was beginning to bug him.

"Why are the grownups so sad?" Tyr asked, his voice a hushed whisper.

"The bad guys are fighting at Indigo Plateau, and they're winning," Angelo replied, quietly, nervously scratching his head through his thick, tight blonde curls. "I think we have to run away to Cerulean City now, but my Mom and Dad haven't come back yet."

"The Elite Four are losing?! But they're the strongest!" Tyr gasped in horror and protest, not caring whether or not his voice boomed through the kitchen of their rustic little cottage. Tyr's parents shushed him abruptly and he frowned angrily.

He leaned back against the wall, pouting dramatically. This log cabin was a place he had called home his whole life, his father had built it and all of the furniture with his own hands, he even cut the trees down, too. He didn't want to leave, and he didn't want to run from the bad guys either. One complaint he had, though, sitting here, vacantly gazing off towards the log walls and pine cabinetry, was the dark hard wood flooring he had to sit on, because it was making his behind numb.

"_Oh, Arceus, it is terrible. The Rockets have laid siege upon the Indigo Plateau headquarters and our defenses are beginning to fail. The building is burning and trainers caught in the crossfire are working to put out the fires, but this might be my last broadcast. I don't know what to say, but I promise to cover this terrifying assault on the Pokemon League until the very end—"_

Tyr listened, but didn't quite know what he was hearing. He knew there was a radio station at the League Headquarters, because he liked to listen to the battles when the challengers faced up against the Elite Four. Mr. Mike always talked excitedly about the battles as they happened and gave Tyr amazing pictures in his mind of the pokemon that battled. One day, as Tyr often said, he'd get all of the badges and become a champion. Yet, by the way things sounded this morning, he wondered if that would happen. It was Mr. Mike's voice telling the scary story right now, about how the bad guys were trying to destroy the league, but why would they do that? The child's blue eyes darkened, becoming forlorn. Everything was changing today.

"Mommy," he whined, attempting to vocalize his needs. It was a plea, a plea for anything really, a hug, or perhaps her gentle voice telling him that everything would be okay. Yet, beyond the boy's capacity to understand why, that plea for anything at all lingered in the air and went unanswered.

"_Lorelei and Agatha have fallen! I repeat, Lorelei and Agatha have both fallen! The last line of outside defense is down," _cried the announcer._ "They are pouring in, trainers are trying to push them back, but pokemon and trainers alike are being slain. Oh, it's terrible! I can smell the hair and flesh burning; the Rockets are using poison types and acid to melt everyone." _

Tyr's father muttered an obscenity and slammed his fist down upon the oak table while his mother gasped, horrified by what she heard on the radio. Tyr watched his Dad, a large and powerful man who many said he could one day look like if he ate his vegetables. Tyr admired the man, idolized him in fact. He always bragged about his Dad and how he has huge muscles that make him strong enough lift anything, or beat anybody up.

"_I don't know how much time I have left, but Bruno and Lance are now pushing them back. It appears to be working. Arceus, it's working! Oh, thank you, Arceus."_

Relief seemed to wash over the room. Tyr grinned smugly. Of course Lance was winning, Lance is the best that there is!

"_Arceus damn it! They've broken through again. The ground is shaking—"_

White noise pervaded and he noticed that his father's fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were whitening. The sound kept coming in and out. Now they could barely make out any words at all. What was happening? Why was it sounding like that? Was the radio broken?

"Giovanni...the building is collapsing...over...Bruno...dead...fled...Lance fled...lost...Pokemon League has—"

There was a scream, a noise like the storms that scared him in the night, and then silence. Tyr whimpered, afraid of the loud, sharp sound and subsequent silence. His mother then fell into a fit of sobbing. Almost like the sudden emotional downturn was contagious, the boy's faces contorted and their lips quivered before they followed suit. Tyr's father stood up and turned off the radio, looking upset, but not upset enough to cry like the rest of them.

"Take the boys, take them now," he ordered, leaning against the kitchen's counter, by the sink, his voice raspy and growling while his hands massaged his temples. "Grab their bags, it's just like we planned. Rest your pokemon at the Center by Mt. Moon, take the passage through the mountain and find Bill's cottage. You'll be safe there."

"What about you?!" cried his mother, hysterically, desperately, stomping her feet. "We need you, Ethan!"

He watched his dad step in close to his mom, taking her hands and cooing gently to reassure her. "Hey, hey, I'll be fine, you'll be fine. Anna, I need to check in at the Pewter Gym and help evacuate. They took out the league, and they're going to sweep the gyms next."

She collapsed into him, burrowing into his right shoulder as she sobbed. He looked behind his her with a faraway gaze, his large and powerful hands embracing her—one at her back and the other at the nape of her neck—pulling her closer and breathing deeply. Tyr watched as his parents embraced tightly, the now silent tears rolling down his face as he rose to his feet and continued to cradle the pokemon egg.

"Okay," Tyr's mother replied, muffled by the bulk of her husband's vast shoulder. "I will—"

She then looked past her husband, through the kitchen window, beyond the patio, and she screamed. It caused him to break their embrace, turn around, and curse to mask his own horror, words that the children had never heard in their lives. Seeing his parents afraid, Tyr wailed even harder, begging one of them to notice that we was also afraid, more afraid than they were. He could feel it, the presence of people outside who weren't there but a moment ago. His mother collapsed to the ground, sitting against the cupboards nearest to the floor and holding her knees. Tyr began to stomp his feet furiously, he was crying even harder, flushing red, feeling the rush of inexplicable panic that he could neither process nor articulate. His Dad moved away from them, his neck and shoulder muscles tense with the impending confrontation. He looked back, and Tyr knew then and there that it was because he had something important to say.

"Anna, go! Please, don't worry about me. I will be fine, I'll see you again," he lied, withholding tears, keeping everything inside. "Anna, I love you."

With that, he moved over the threshold and out into the yard to face whatever had made his mother fall to the floor.

"Mommy," Tyr cried. "Get up, please!"

She remained in place, weeping and saying nothing while Angelo moved to the glass patio door near the kitchen table, opening it to watch and listen to what was going on outside. Tyr frowned and left her there, now following his friend out of curiosity.

"Archer," his dad growled disdainfully, moving down the wooden steps at the front of the cabin.

There were three men, but the leader, who wasn't wearing a black suit, stood out because of his slicked back head of silver and the fact that he was at the center of the small group—he looked like he was more important than the other two men that he came here with.

"Found you," said the man in a fancy smoke colored suit, smiling wickedly as Tyr's father approached. The way he said it, it was almost like he was being mean and singing at the same time. Whoever he was, he wasn't big and strong like his dad, but shorter and thinner. Beside him, a gold and brown pokemon with long whiskers stood, holding two large spoons, one in each hand. "It took a little convincing for Mr. Laguardia to tell us which Indigo he answered to, but I get the feeling that watching his wife suffer made him betray you. As a kindness, I allowed them both a quick death. Though, it was you who had them spy on us and I cannot let that go unpunished."

Angelo gasped, closed his eyes, and held his breath as though it would keep him from screaming. Tyr, however, had no idea what the adults outside were even talking about and he looked between his friend and the adults frantically, confused and terrified all in the same instant.

"I'm not going to let that happen," growled Tyr's father, his fists clenched tightly.

"Oh, I know," sighed Archer, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves before briefly locking eyes with the spoon-wielding pokemon, an Alakazam, and then turning his gaze back to his father. "This is why I intend to eliminate you and take their progeny into our fold. They begged me to keep him safe after all. Your people cannot do that, for your best trainers couldn't even protect their precious league," he added, the faintest sound of laughter escaping into his words.

Tyr's father deftly flashed his right hand towards his belt, swiftly, drawing one of his pokeballs. "You fuck—"

"Bishop," hissed the man, speaking to his Alakazam as though it already knew what it needed to do.

Bishop's eyes began to glow in a pale shade of blue as it locked eyes with the man opposing its master. Tyr screamed out, helplessly, as his father dropped the orb in hand and collapsed to his knees, pawing and scratching at his ears furiously. His dad was in pain, something was hurting his head, and he was screaming in a way that Tyr never heard before.

"DADDY!" he screamed, with all of the wind his lungs could muster. This caused the two shady looking men in suits to snap their heads towards him and Angelo. Tyr didn't care, he kept screaming while the tears steadily streamed down his face. "Daddy! Get up!"

When Bishop's gaze ceased to glow, Tyr's father slumped into the cold earth, crimson pouring forth from his sightless eyes, his ears that would never again hear his voice, and his mouth that would never again lay a goodnight kiss upon his forehead. The boy's father had lost his life in a terrifying fashion, and in the presence of the two children who watched on in horror.

"Poor child," said Archer, raising his right hand to eye level and curling his closed hand inwards, looking at his fingernails before again lowering his hand. "Put him out of his misery, but take the smaller one alive. He now belongs to our Don."

The men nodded and stepped forward, letting fly their pokeballs which unleashed two large, purple serpents, one with a hood and one without—Arbok and Ekans. The venomous pokemon then hissed and lunged for their targets. As the boys ran inside, the two men who each released their pokemon both lit a bottle, with a rag inside of it, ablaze and then tossed them through the windows. As the glass bottles shattered into burning diamonds, the flames erupted and began to spread. Tyr ran to his mother, where he had left her, and she refused to move in spite of the unfurling horror.

"Mommy! Mommy, get up!" he pleaded, shaking her with his free right hand while the left arm continued to cradle the egg. "Mommy! They lit everything on fire! Mommy, get up! Mommy! Their pokemon are going to hurt us!"

The black smoke began to fill the air and escape through the open windows while the fire leapt from curtains, to family pictures, and to the walls. It would not stop until it had devoured the entire house. The children coughing brought his mother to her senses and she beckoned them to crouch below the smoke.

"Can you get to the back door?" she asked, kneeling, each hand upon the head of the boys who nodded in response. She kissed them both on the forehead before releasing her grip on them. "Just run."

Tyr and Angelo moved as low to the floor as they could, both not wanting to lose their precious eggs—all that was left of Tyr's dad. They moved hastily while still crouched beneath the thick, stifling veil of smoke. It was the sound of falling timber and the two pokemon bursting through the weakened wall that caused Tyr to turn around and be met with a flying piece of debris that struck him on the right side of his face. The boy tumbled backwards, feeling sticky and warm fluid ooze from the wound while the overwhelming pain seared through him. He couldn't see out of his right eye anymore and didn't know why. His breathing sharpened, quickening, and his heart hammered inside of him. The sudden impact caused him so much pain that he wanted to scream but could not, there was no voice in his throat, no air in his chest. No, he couldn't breathe and he began to panic—the room began to spin while his vision darkened and his head throbbed. Burning timber fell and the embers rose, obscuring the sight of what transpired on the other side of the home.

"We have to go, Tyr! Get up!" cried Angelo, his shrill pleas pulling Tyr away from the darkness and giving him enough strength to move again.

They heard his mother scream her final scream as they both came out of the back door, coughing and limping. While they ran down the steps, Tyr touched his hand to his wound and whimpered when he saw how red and stained with his own blood it had become. He had to keep running, he had to hide, and he had to get to safety. He never looked back, even as his home groaned and fell in upon itself in a cacophony of broken glass and timber.

The boys kept running, through the bushes, ducking and weaving between the branches as they desperately sought to gain distance from the men in suits who attacked and killed Tyr's family. There was no time to think, no time to mourn. They had to keep moving, but, in a matter of minutes, feeling more like hours, Tyr collapsed to his knees, the darkness slowly swallowing his vision once more. Angelo knelt beside him, begging him to get up again because the bad guys would surely catch up.

"Ah, there you are," said Archer, smiling as if he knew exactly what he was confirming for the children. Tyr slumped over, though he stubbornly refused to relinquish his hold on the egg in his arms. He was fading, all of this was fading. "It looks as though it's the end of the line for you both."

Angelo stood up, holding fast to what he also cradled in his arms, and walked towards Archer with all of the bravery he could muster.

"Leave him alone!" the other boy snarled, his voice sounding much stronger than Tyr had ever remembered. "IT'S ME YOU WANT, ISN'T IT?"

Tyr lay upon the hard ground, his lids becoming too heavy to keep open any longer. And Angelo's voice would be ringing his ears, right before the darkness came in and took everything away, the tears, the smoke, the pain.

**Swagger**

* * *

**Author's note:  
**

****Hey, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the beginning of my latest creative project. For those of you reading my other fic, I feel it is necessary to inform you that this will now have my undivided attention-I don't really know if and when I will continue on the others. Swagger is actually a forum-based roleplay I am involved in and the premise for it is amazing. I have consent from the thread creator and participants involved to include their characters in the fiction. However, I will tell you who exclusively belongs to me. The characters Ethan, Anna, Tyr, and Angelo are mine. In future chapters, Nox, Cyril, and Hiryu also belong to me. The rest of the featured characters do not belong to me. My intention is to loosely follow the events that transpire in the roleplay as a means of entertainment for myself and the other participants. So, if you're interested in this darker rendition of Pokemon, enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**The Rebirth of Angel Part I**

_**Alcheri Manor – North of Viridian City**_

Minutes, hours, or days—Angelo cared not how many passed as he laid in protest, upon the bed of fine silks, refusing every meal that a kind and motherly woman by the name of Ariana Alcheri offered him. He didn't know where he was, or how he even got here. All he could do was wonder whether or not Tyr survived after passing out in the wilderness. It upset him greatly to replay everything that had happened that day, to wonder if Tyr had been eaten by a group of wild pokemon or saved by somebody. It did bring him some comfort, though, that Archer didn't hurt him like he had promised. Yet, not knowing if his friend was okay ate away at him worse than the aches and hunger pangs ever could. He lay on his side, facing the wall, simply staring at the large white egg, with green speckles, resting beside him, a precious relic he had managed to keep throughout the whole ordeal.

"If you don't eat, you're probably going to die," said the soft voice of a little girl.

Angelo snapped his head away from the wood paneled wall and in the direction of the petite child sitting across the room in a wicker chair. She sat haughtily, smoothing out her sundress of pink cotton, staring at him with red eyes that burned with a maturity beyond even his own. She even looked like she was younger than him. This girl with fine wisps of flaxen hair then scratched her Houndour, who sat obediently before the chair, behind the ears. The black dog's tongue hung while his overall demeanor seemed relaxed. In spite of that, however, his dutiful gaze locked upon the prisoner in the bed of violet silks.

"Do you like him?" she asked, smiling. "His name is Barghest. Uncle Archer had him specially bred to protect me, and only me, when I was born. If you try to hurt me, he'll kill you."

Angelo, emaciated and weak, sat up wearily in the bed, interested in this strange girl in a pink dress. He rubbed his bloodshot brown eyes, having been periodically wet by his despairing tears, before fixing them upon her for better inspection.

"By the way," Lucia began, leaning ahead to get a look at the pokemon egg Angelo had in the bed. "Where did you get an egg from? My parents won't even let me have one, you're so lucky."

"Who are you?" he asked her, wanting to change the subject, his voice raspy from intense thirst.

"My name is Lucia Alcheri, and this is my house that you're stinking up by staying in bed and not moving," she snapped back, coolly. "If starve yourself to death, I'll enslave you when you're reborn as a Gastly."

"That's not true," said Angelo somberly. "It's a stupid ghost story that only little kids believe in. Dead people don't turn into pokemon."

Lucia gasped indignantly and Barghest made low rumble in his throat before calming down. "But, Emilio said so!"

"Who is Emilio?" Angelo asked, crossing his arms with defiance.

"Emilio is my brother. He's twelve and he knows everything! He's really good at pokemon battles, too!" Lucia hissed vehemently, "AND, Uncle Archer told me that he is going help make him Don of the family one day. So, Emilio is smart and you're just an idiot who won't eat. I'm not going to listen to you!"

"Fine," said Angelo, scooping up the pokemon egg to his right, the egg that served as his one source of comfort since he arrived here. He then cradled it, keeping it warm, and smiled when he realized that movement could be felt. He reached, with one arm, for an oxidized piece of toast from the morning and began to take timid bites from it. This egg would hatch soon; it needed someone who would care for it. Angelo gained hope and strength from the egg, so he'd live on in order to care for the baby pokemon—the last vestige of his old life. After finishing the toast, he reached for a glass of water and gulped it eagerly before speaking to Lucia again. "Believe what you want, I don't really care."

Lucia crossed her arms and legs, making a noise of protest and insult. "You still need a bath. I hope Uncle Archer lets me keep you as a pet. I'll work you in the stables every day, because you smell like you should be in one."

"What's going to happen to me?" Angelo asked, fighting the inevitable dither in his voice.

"I don't know," said Lucy, darkly, leaping from the wicker chair and smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress. "That's for Archer to decide when he comes back with my father in a few days."

"Lucia!" said a brisk voice, coming from the one who had been taking care of him. "What did I tell you about bothering our guest?"

Ariana Alcheri stood in the doorway, a hand upon her hip while her eyes as cutting and red as Lucia's fixed upon the little girl. The silhouette of the woman standing at the threshold of the dim room had light from behind her shining through her red locks like a crown of fire. Her weight shifted upon her heels and she adjusted her posture to convey her growing impatience with Lucia, who had frozen before Ariana's wrath. "Well?"

Lucia averted her gaze from that of her persecutor and shuffled her feet as she fidgeted nervously. "To not to."

"Then leave," Ariana replied, angry with the child.

"Yes, mother," said Lucia, shuffling out of the room with Barghest in tow. Barghest turned to Ariana and revealed his white fangs to her. Ariana, as a rejoinder, simply made a sharp pointing motion towards the hallway and Barghest whimpered, retreating, scampering out, with his tail between his hind legs.

"Oh, you've been eating," she said kindly, now giving her attention to Angelo.

"Yes," Angelo said cautiously, clutching the pokemon egg tightly, protectively.

"That's wonderful!" Ariana exclaimed, clutching her hands together and smiling. "I was beginning to worry that you would actually starve yourself."

Angelo said nothing and looked away from her.

"My brother will be here in a few days to pick you up," Ariana said, pretending not to notice Angelo's cool demeanor, her voice remaining pleasant and maternal. "In the meantime, please treat this like your home, too. I will take care of you while you are under my roof, so let me know if you need anything. I can draw you a hot bath, if you'd like. Eggs like warm baths."

Angelo fought a smile. These people were responsible for what happened to his parents, the McLeods, and even all of those people at Indigo Plateau. How could he allow himself to ever be happy in front of them? But, all the same, Ariana's presence was so warm, so inviting, and evoked emotions that he, a child of six, could never comprehend or articulate. With everyone who ever cared about him gone forever, was it really so wrong of him to accept the kindness and affection from a motherly figure wherever he could get it? He nodded, reluctantly accepting her offer for a warm bath.

"Wonderful," Ariana beamed, smiling at him. "You can meet my stepson after your bath, if you're up for it."

"Okay," Angelo said, unable to conceal his own smile from her.

* * *

_**Three days later**_

_**Alcheri Manor**_

During his stay at Alcheri Manor, Angelo knew comfort beyond anything he could have possibly imagined. The food was well prepared, Emilio's old clothes still smelled and felt new, Ariana was wonderfully kind, and there was so much to explore in the home and in the vast expanse of the countryside property. Though he knew freedom and comfort to certain extents, he still knew that he was a prisoner by the Rockets because, whenever he went outside, he always had someone to escort him. Yet, even if he could escape, where would he go? Even though he was watched closely at all times, only afforded privacy when he bathed or used the washroom, a part of him hoped he never had to leave. There were moments, before sleep, though, when he would dread that the man with silver hair, Archer, would come to once again tear him away from any semblance of happiness. On this day, his fears were realized.

"Huh?!" Angelo exclaimed, sitting across a table from Emilio, Lucia's older brother, while playing a heated game of chess. "My egg!"

This afternoon, the children amused themselves in the large seating area of the manor. The room, like the rest of the opulent country dwelling, was decorated with warm brown colors, some paneling, and wooden furniture. The room led directly from the foyer, what Angel called the circle room, with a vaulted ceiling and many windows lining the curved wall. The seating room itself was decorated with various sofas, a chaise by a window, a television, and a table for card games, or chess.

Emilio backed his chair from the table and stood up, resting his hands upon the wooden surface as Kahlan, his Meowth, fell to the floor, scampering off with an irritated, protesting growl. Disregarding his companion's plight, his curious green eyes fixed upon the egg Angelo held fast to and he smiled eagerly. Angelo looked up to Emilio, responding with a grin of pride while the egg shook and cracked. He had taken a liking to Emilio, the friendly older boy with short chestnut colored hair. He liked how much Lucia respected Emilio and found that staying close to the older boy kept Lucia from tormenting him.

"It's finally time," Emilio said, his voice squeaking out of his control for but a fleeting second.

Lucia rolled her eyes at the boys, and the commotion they caused, before she went back to reading 'The Call of Clefairy' to Barghest, who sat and dutifully absorbed every word that she stumbled over, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Since Emilio had been occupied with the egg hatching, he didn't have the presence of mind, or care, to correct her about the words she mispronounced. Ariana, on the other hand, placed a bookmark into her copy of 'House of Leavanny' and set the hardcover novel down upon the sandy brown chaise as she rose from it to come and see this miraculous event, the hatching of an egg.

Bits of speckled eggshell crumbled and fell to the maroon floor rug resting upon the ruddy hardwood floor. Eyes from everyone, including Lucia, who peeked over her book, were on the hatching egg. From it, a baby Eevee outstretched, warm and damp from its prior incubation. Angelo brushed the bits of shell from its fine coat of fur and embraced it affectionately while the newborn Eevee yawned. This, this moment was the happiest he had felt in the past week. A part of him wanted to shed tears, but he was too proud to cry in front of his present company.

"Do you have a name for her?" Ariana asked, cooing softly to Angelo, who was euphoric with the birth of his pet.

"Eclipse," said Angelo, stroking the newly named Eevee. "I'm naming her Eclipse."

"Oh, I get it!" Emilio said with clarity. "You're going to make it evolve into an Umbreon."

Angelo nodded, hugging his new companion.

"Then, if I were you, I'd train it at night," Emilio suggested. "Don Acerbi is giving me lessons with pokemon, maybe I can teach you everything I learn if Uncle Archer and Father let you stay."

"Teach me, too!" Lucia chimed in. "I'm going to make Barghest really powerful one day."

"But, Barghest kind of scares me," said the squeaky voiced Emilio, scratching the back of his head. "Does he really need to get stronger? Uncle said that his values for every category were REALLY high when the breeder looked at him. Like, top percentages high."

"Ultimate power!" Lucia cackled facetiously, before cooing at Barghest like she would a baby. "You're going to always fight for me, right Barghest?"

Barghest howled and he was the closest to smiling that a Houdour could be.

"Oh my," laughed Ariana, holding her curled right hand over her mouth while she laughed. "If only we had trainers like Lucia and pokemon like Barghest a few years ago."

All of the children stared at her, having no idea what she meant.

"Oh, just a little joke about something that happened when Mommy used to work with Uncle Archer and Don Giovan—er, I mean Acerbi," she chuckled, dropping it and letting her hand fall to her hip.

Just then, the sound of the front door opening could be heard, along with the din of three men.

"DADDY!" Lucia cried out in an excited shriek before she and Barghest rose from the floor, abandoning the novel, and rushed headlong into the foyer. Ariana followed after her daughter.

Angelo's heart sank into his stomach and he clutched Eclipse fearfully. If Lucia and Emilio's father returned, then it meant that Archer had also returned. He broke into a cold sweat while he felt his chest tighten. What if Archer had Eclipse taken away from him? He didn't realize that Emilio had observed his change in countenance, but he did when Emilio spoke in a soothing tone. "Don't worry. You'll both be safe with us. I promise that I won't let anything happen to you or her."

Emilio paused a moment, listening to the conversation out where the adults spoke. His brilliant gaze then sharpened upon Angelo. "Giovanni Acerbi is here. No matter what he's ordered and done to you, it's very important you listen to me. Call him 'Don Acerbi', use your best manners, and speak when spoken to. Keep it short and to the point, do you understand?"

Angelo nodded, reluctantly.

"Good, now come with me," said Emilio, walking out towards the crowd in the foyer.

Angelo followed behind Emilio, the one person he felt he could trust, and kept his chestnut gaze down on Eclipse while he walked slowly. He didn't know what Emilio was planning, but he followed along anyway, hoping that things would turn in his favor. He lost his parents, he lost Tyr, he lost Tyr's parents, but maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to keep Eclipse as a partner and Emilio as his friend. Angelo, the child who knew more tragedy than any child in Kanto should, steeled himself over for what he was about to face.

The group that consisted of Lucia, Ariana, Archer, Don Giovanni, a well dressed youth at Giovanni's side, and a man holding Lucia, all fell silent. Angelo's eyes moved over the ones he had never seen before. He guessed that the tall man with fair skin and pale features was Emilio and Lucia's father. Then he found himself taking in the sight of the youth who looked less like a child than Emilio, dressed in a suit as black as the short hair upon is head, whose violet stare returned his own measuring look. Angelo quickly averted his gaze and found the Don himself watching him closely. Giovanni, in spite of his slouch, short stature, and broad shoulders rolled forward, served as an imposing figure with his hands in his pockets and dark eyes upon Angelo. He swallowed hard, knowing that his fate weighed upon that man's very mood.

"You are the boy," said Giovanni, his voice gruff yet melodious. "LaGuardia."

"Yes, Don Acerbi," said Angelo, lowering his gaze to the floor while keeping them in Giovanni's direction.

"Your parents are dead, as are your friend's parents. I also understand that it is unknown what fate that friend has met," Giovanni continued, his gaze darkening. "You must hate us."

Angelo hesitated, letting the silence linger for only a moment. "Yes."

"Yet, I see a darker, more mature view of the world in your eyes. You've just now begun to realize that machinations greater than yourself are at play, am I correct?"

He listened to the Don and thought about the words, some over his capacity and some not. He could understand the meaning though, that things had changed for the worse and could never go back, that his life hung in their hands. "You are."

While entangled in a dance of words with the great and powerful Don, Angelo failed to notice Emilio and the panic he stifled. Angelo, with his cold demeanor and brutal honesty, was doing the exact opposite of what Emilio had advised.

"You would join my family, then? To preserve your own existence?" Giovanni asked with a grim smile. "To thrive in this new world?"

"Yes, Don Acerbi," said Angelo, "You didn't have me killed when Archer killed my family and friends. My life is yours."

"That pleases me, Angel LaGuardia," Giovanni replied, his tone commanding. "That will be your name from now on, boy. You are Angel from here on out, do you understand?"

"Yes," said Angel, raising his gaze to meet his Don's. "I am Angel."

"Good, now run along with the children while we discuss your place in the family."

_**To be continued...**_

**Author's note:**

Woot! Another chapter! And a big shout out to my friend Irako for beta reading my chapter. I made some liberties. For instance, giving Giovanni a last name (Acerbi), as well as making Archer and Ariana brother and sister. The plot thickens and this was fun to write. I hope you all enjoy!


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